Knights of the Dead Republic
by SixTwoSixFour
Summary: Revan has won. The Republic is beaten, and the Jedi Order has fallen. And there is only one hope left, the one spark lighting up the darkness of the Sith Empire- Mira Kast, the Jedi Exile. AU, third person, serious.
1. The Opening Crawl

STAR WARS: KNIGHTS OF THE DEAD REPUBLIC

Four thousand years before the rise of the Galactic Empire,

the Republic has almost completely collapsed. The DARK

LORD REVAN and his apprentice, DARTH MALAK, have

crushed the old government, and are slowly replacing it with

the rule of their Sith Empire.

Shattered and broken, the Jedi that are left are helpless to

fight Revan. The Jedi Order is destroyed, and the Jedi Council

is scattered, its members in hiding. And those few Jedi that

do stand against him inevitably fall... or worse, are turned,

swearing their allegiance to the Sith Lord...

In the skies above the Outer Rim world of Taris, the last

known Jedi interrupts a battle between the Sith fleet and a

remnant of the old Republic, and in so doing, sets off a

chain of events that will shape the fate of a galaxy...


	2. Chapter 1

Alright, here we go! To those of you who are just strollin' in- welcome, good to see ya! To those of you who have me on Author Alert... well, I said I might have something new up before Tuesday, didn't I? =P

This is a KotOR 1/2 fic- basically, this is a "what if" fic. "What if" Bastila's attempt to capture Revan had failed, and Revan had gone on to conquer the Republic entirely? That's where we find ourselves here. Our main character is Mira Kast, the Jedi Exile. I am working with the Exile as being a Female Jedi Guardian, and I am of course taking some liberties. Canonly the Exile was female anyway, though.

You're going to see characters from KotOR 1 and 2, selectively. Frankly, KotOR 2 had a better cast as a whole, so you will see more of them, but many members of KotOR 1's cast will be in as well. I would have to be _crazy_ to leave HK-47 out, of course. This story doesn't have any set update schedule- it's an "as I feel like it" kind of thing, but I will almost certainly average more than one chapter a month. This is sort of a pressure release valve for me- my main story, Armed Resistance, updates all the freakin' time, and sometimes I get stuck for ideas, and can't keep writing. This story is probably what I will be writing when I'm stuck on AR.

Don't really have much to say yet- I like to use this space to respond to user reviews and comments, and since this is a new story, I of course don't have any yet. I'll just say that real quick that I want to thank LordRevanMandaloreofZutara for indirectly inspiring me to write this. Alright, enjoy Chapter 1!

* * *

Bastila Shan hung her head. How many months had it been since they'd captured her? It could have been three, or six, a dozen or more. She didn't know. It was part of the torture, she supposed, that they didn't even allow her to know if it was night or day. She was awake until she couldn't keep her eyes open, and then she slept a deep sleep until she either just woke up on her own... or the Sith woke her up for their own purposes.

_I was so close..._ she thought for maybe the thousandth time. _Lord Revan, the leader of the Sith... and we fought. I fought him. I came so close... confronting him with lightsaber in hand... and he had _laughed_. Laughed that one of my talents would dare oppose him. Laughed that I actually thought I could win. I couldn't. He blocked a few swings, and then crushed me against the wall with a careless gesture of his hand... a blast of force power like I've never seen._

She shook her head. _I once thought that Revan was nearly equal to the Jedi Masters... but that is a laughable assessment. He is so far superior to them that it blows my mind._ She was a Jedi Knight. She was skilled, she was powerful, and she hadn't come into this ignorant. She'd come knowing what she was up against. And it hadn't been enough.

Revan had been the most fastest growing Jedi in centuries... maybe even millennia. His progress was incredible- he was leading teams of Jedi Knights when others were still building their first lightsaber. He'd led the Jedi to war when there was no hope of victory... led them against the overwhelming powerful Mandalorians, against the will of the council... and he'd _won_. He'd beat them at their own game, fighting better, fighting smarter, and driving them to absolute defeat. And in the wake of his victory, one of the most promising Jedi just disappeared for years.

When he reappeared, it was as Lord Revan, leader of the Sith, enemy of the Jedi... and with an immense army following him in his quest to conquer the galaxy. Did he succeed? Bastila had no idea. She'd been locked up for far too long, and it wasn't as though they told her news. He certainly hadn't lost, though- if they had, someone would have freed her. So he was either still fighting... or he'd won.

The second possibility chilled her. At the time she was captured, the Republic had been on its last legs. Revan had fought his way through the galaxy from the outside in, and though the inner planets were the most well defended and advanced, there hadn't been many of them left, and Revan's immense fleet and army barely even showed signs of damage. Sending her to ambush Revan had been a desperate move.

Bastila was skilled in a rare Jedi art- battle meditation. It was the ability to affect an entire battle with the Force. Bastila just... reached out to the Force, and through it, everyone around her. The soldiers on her side, she inspired with confidence, with conviction, and with courage. The enemy... to them, she gave chaos, confusion, and cowardice.

It wasn't hard to imagine what this did to the battle- Bastila's side began to cooperate better, began to be more alert, more decisive, and managed to make shots they never would have before. The enemy, on the other hand, began to panic, to flee, to desert, and to argue. The simple flow of positive and negative energy made such a difference in a large-scale battle that it was hard to believe.

Her battle meditation and the element of surprise weren't enough to win against Revan's overwhelming fleet, though. That hadn't been the point. The point had been for them to be enough for Bastila's ship to reach Revan's flagship... and for the strike team of Jedi to reach the Lord himself, and take him down.

Reach him they had. And he had folded them like paper, and crushed them into oblivion. It was like a bad joke. They'd thought it odd all the way there- it had been so easy. This man was the Dark Lord of the Sith. There should have been dozens of Sith warriors waiting for them to defend their master. But there had been _none_. Some troopers, and other soldiers, but no Force users of any kind. They hadn't questioned their luck, though, and had just pressed on.

It was only in retrospect, sitting in prison after her failure, that she realized the truth. Revan had known that they would come. He had sent all of his Sith away because he wanted to deal with them personally. Because he wanted them to understand that they were not fighting a _man_. They were fighting a _god_. And as the sole survivor of the twenty-man Jedi Knight strike team, forced to stare as her friends were ripped to pieces, Bastila believed it. She believed it with the fervor of a religious zealot.

They were trying to convert her to the dark side, but they weren't having much luck. The dark side fed on emotions like fear, like anger, like hatred. Bastila didn't have any of those. She only had acceptance. She wasn't afraid. Everything she'd ever loved was taken from her, what was there to be afraid of? She wasn't angry or hateful. Those are emotions born of energy, and Bastila had none. She had the melancholy of one who knew that there was nothing she could do, that all of her actions were pointless, and all she could do was sit and wait... because eventually, she would either die, or give in.

She had long since given up hope of being rescued. Who was there to rescue her? Revan must have destroyed the Jedi Academy by this point. There couldn't be many Jedi left. They would all be on the run, all denying what they once were, trying to hide from the wrath of the Dark Lord. But even one... even one Jedi that could fight would make all the difference. If she just knew of one Jedi that was alive... if she knew for certain that there was one out there that wasn't ready to lay down and die, she would have hope again.

But even that little thing she could not have.

* * *

"Can we slip past them?" asked Mira Kast hopefully.

Her pilot, Relan Drak, gave her an incredulous look. "Just... slip past the massive fleet of Sith ships."

"Well, they look like they're dealing with that Republic ship right now, they might not even notice us," she offered.

"Ms. Kast, of all the passengers I've ferried over the years, you are certainly the most polite... and yet you make it hard for me to match those manners when you say such blatantly stupid things," answered the man frankly. "Yes, they will notice us. One little cruiser is not enough to hold the attention of seven Sith carriers, twenty battleships, and... a lot of other stuff that I don't feel like counting."

"...It was just optimism, I knew it was unlikely," grumbled Mira, looking away.

"Optimism? From you?"

"I was giving it a shot, seeing what it was like. It seems kind of stupid." The pilot snorted, and glanced back at the controls. _Wonderful,_ thought Mira. _Not even a simple run to Tatooine can go smooth._ "What's our move, then?"

"Given that our registration is fake? Well, if we alter course at all, they're going to pay attention to us, and then they'll shoot us down for being obvious smugglers. If we _don't_ alter course, we'll fly right through the middle of their firefight, and that will _also_ get us noticed." He punched a few buttons. "It seems pretty lose-lose to me. We're not supposed to be in this airspace at all, but _somebody_, not naming names, screwed up the calculations on our route."

"Hey, you're the one who's still using a T1 series droid for navigation even after the mandatory recall by the manufacturer, you don't get to complain when he charts an odd course now and then," said Mira.

"I get to complain when his odd course is going to get my ship shot down, I think," he sighed. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. So we're already right over Telos. If we make a run for the planet... they probably won't bother shooting us down. I mean, what do they care, right?"

"Right. I'm sure their whole 'no-fly zone' decree was just an empty threat anyway. I mean this is the _Sith_ we're talking about, they're reasonable guys," said Mira sarcastically.

Relan paused. "I liked you better when you were being an optimist, I think."

There was suddenly a loud bang, and the entire ship shuddered. Mira braced herself against the wall until the shaking passed, and then she and Relan stared at each other. "...What was that?"

"I've got this strange feeling that maybe one of our engines just went out," answered Relan quietly.

Mira paled. "We've been hit?" She glanced out the cockpit, but she didn't see any laser fire in their direction. _What tagged us, then?_

"Believe it or not, Ms. Kast, sometimes you don't need enemy fire to mess up your ship. Sometimes age and ill repair do that job juuuust fine."

There was a long, silent moment as Mira thought. Finally, she said, "Can you get us on the ground?"

"Oh, definitely," nodded Relan easily.

Mira blinked. "You can?"

"No question about that. The only question is what speed we'll be going when we get to it, if you follow me." He pressed a few buttons, and the ship straightened out as it raced for Taris. "You might want to go sit down... if you get killed cause you weren't wearing a seatbelt, I'm gonna look like a lousy transport captain."

"Somehow, I don't think my seatbelt is going to make much of a difference," she said, bemused.

The man sighed. "I tried being polite about this. How about- you're making me nervous, go away."

"Nope," answered Mira cheerfully. The pilot groaned as she sank into the co-pilot's seat. "Do you want me to man the guns, or something?"

"I'd really rather we didn't give the Sith _more_ reason to shoot at us, but thanks for the offer." There was a flash, and another bang, and the ship shuddered again. "Okay, that time it was laser fire," acknowledged the pilot. "If you wanted to get into an escape pod, I really wouldn't be offended." He pressed a few more buttons, and then there was another bang and shudder. "Alright, lost cause," he sighed, and stood.

"You seem awfully relaxed about getting shot down," noted Mira as they ran to the escape pods.

"Numbed, more like. This is the third hunk of junk I've gotten into the air that the Sith have summarily shot out of the sky. It's deja vu by this point." He pulled open the escape pod with a jerk of his arm. "The first one was terrifying, the second was awful, but this one is just kinda lousy." He paused. "Unless I don't survive this time, because that would really be pretty shitty."

Mira raised a fist hesitantly. "See you at the bottom?"

"God willing," sighed the man, and then he slammed his pod door shut.

"God has nothing to do with it," she replied quietly, and then pulled her pod shut as well. She couldn't bring herself to say it, but the words rose unbidden in her mind: _May the Force be with us._ Then she slammed her fist on the glass over the "EJECT" button. It smashed, pressing down the button, and the escape pod blasted into space.

The fact of the matter is, space is a vacuum. All those movies where you see people flying through space with their engines roaring, and the blast of laser cannons, that's a bunch of crap. You can hear what happens to your ship, sure. But everything else is just silence. Sound doesn't carry in a vacuum.

Which is why the Aural Feedback Generator was designed. It's a standard part of a ship's navicomputer- a system that analyses what is happening around you, and generates synthesized sounds based on it. If it senses an explosion, it makes the sound of an explosion. If it senses you going past a ship, it makes that rushing, _whoosh_ing sound. It helps pilots feel more at home, removing the eerie silence of space.

And that made the empty silence in the escape pods all the more jarring. Escape pods don't have a navicomputer, of course, or at least not a proper one. Thus, they don't have an Aural Feedback Generator- and even something as exciting as ejecting from a ship moments before it explodes while turbolaser fire flies all around seems pretty dull, because it's completely silent.

Mira took a moment to reflect on just how badly this trip had gone. She had been headed to Tatooine, a sparsely-populated desert planet with few laws, and little to no Sith presence. Now she was about to crash-land on the city-planet of Taris, a massive metropolis with a heavy Sith presence and _plenty_ of laws. And she would have liked to have just landed rather than slammed into the planet at terminal velocity. Though at least she hadn't had to pay her fair.

It wouldn't be unreasonable to ask why anyone would _want_ to go to a place like Tatooine. The aforementioned Sith presence, really, was the most important thing to Mira. The Sith were assholes, but to your average person, they really weren't much trouble. Mira Kast, however, was not your average person. She was a Jedi.

_Formerly_ a Jedi. She'd fought in the Mandalorian Wars, like a lot of Jedi. Fought alongside Revan. She'd even been a general. And then the war had ended... and she had made a choice her comrades had not. Of all the Jedi that fought in the war and survived, she was the _only_ one who did not turn to the dark side. The _only_ one who walked away, and went back to the Jedi Council for their judgment.

She thought they would respect that. That they would recognize that she had just saved the world... and was still willing to come back to them, even after they'd been _wrong_, and do her part. They didn't. They called her a traitor, a fool, and a criminal, and they exiled her. The few Jedi she'd run into since wouldn't even call her by name anymore- she was just "the Exile" to them.

It boiled her blood. _So arrogant, so self-righteous even when they were _wrong_. Even when they nearly let the entire galaxy _burn_ for their foolishness. Was this exile supposed to be a punishment? I wouldn't want to serve under such fools anyway._ Even after three years, it still made her angry to think about it. That the people who'd once taught her how to fight, how to live, had been so _stupid _this whole time. Willing to cast aside help because they couldn't stand to admit that they were _wrong_.

They were now confident that current events had proved them right- that Revan and his followers' turn to the dark side demonstrated what a mistake it had all been. Personally, Mira thought it demonstrated what happened when you had all the inexperienced warriors, the Padawans, handle the war because the veterans were too cowardly to do so. There was no doubt in her mind that the mass conversion to the dark side was due to the trauma of the war. The Padawans just hadn't been ready for it. And the veterans _let_ them be turned for the sake of their arrogance, rather than counseling them.

And then they wondered why the Jedi were all but extinct. Idiots. To be killed by an enemy was one thing. To be killed by your own ego was just embarrassing. A fitting end, all in all. Jedi were someone else's problem. For now, Mira just wanted to stay alive. And since they were after her despite her exile, that meant staying one step ahead of the Sith.

The pod began to shake as it entered the atmosphere, the metal screaming under the stress. Mira reached for the harness to buckle herself in, and found it broken. She stared at it for a moment, and thought, _stupid piece of junk._ Then the pod jumped as it hit a spot of turbulence, throwing her against the durasteel roof, and everything went black.

[-]

Aboard the besieged Republic cruiser the _Endar Spire_, Carth Onasi stumbled to an escape pod of his own, and climbed inside, cursing in anger. It had all gone wrong. They were supposed to hop in to the Taris system, deploy their strike teams, rescue Bastila from her prison on the planet's surface, and then get the hell out of there. Instead, they'd jumped into the system, and an entire Sith fleet had just been _waiting_ for them to arrive. Like they'd known that they were coming.

Most of the ship's _crew_ hadn't even known where they were going, so Carth had no idea how the Sith had found out... but Revan always seemed to find out these sorts of things. Maybe he had visions through the Force, or something, or perhaps it was just good old-fashioned spies. Whatever the case, they were screwed now. And some little cargo ship, some civilian, had stumbled into their firefight and been shot down as well. Poor bastards.

He deployed his escape pod, and closed his eyes. He would probably survive... but he wasn't very confident of his chances once he landed planetside. Still, if he kept his senses about him, and kept moving... things would work out. He'd gotten through some tough times before, and all that you really needed to do was keep moving. That was the best thing to do.

* * *

Kolto was widely considered to be a miracle substance. Submerge a body in a tank of kolto, and almost any wound would be healed in a matter of hours- occasionally days, if the problem was a sickness rather than an injury. It did better with cuts and breaks than it did with diseases, certainly. Still, a remarkable substance, nearly perfect in every way. It had done wonders for science. And you didn't even need a mask when floating in it- when unrefined, the human body could breath the stuff. The trouble was... the body didn't know that instinctively.

And for that reason, waking up to a mouthful of kolto was one of the more unpleasant sensations in the world. Mira gagged on the healing fluid, and her lungs began to seize up, forcing the stuff from her throat. In her panic, her hands scrambled at the surface of the tank... and found a button. She mashed her hand at it desperately. The fluid drained out quickly, and then the tank sprang open, dumping her unceremoniously onto the ground.

She took a few deep breaths of fresh air, gathering her senses. _There was a voice,_ she thought to herself. _A voice in my head told me to wake up._ She pushed herself to her feet slowly, and took in her surroundings. _A small medical bay... with a few other kolto tanks, none of them occupied._ She shook her head.

_We got hit... and went to the escape pods. After that... I don't know _what_ happened,_ Mira thought. Then she froze. _Voices._

"Damn, I didn't even noticed this door at first. 'Intensive Isolation Room...' sounds like where you'd hide something to _me_." A clunking sound. "What the hell... this one's locked? Pain in the ass..." grumbled a voice. The voice was slightly altered- it sounded like the voice modifier that the Sith troopers wore.

"Of course, that all but guarantees that there's something worth our time behind it," commented another trooper. "Let me try my plasma torch."

Whoever they were, they weren't friendly. Mira looked around, trying to spot a weapon that she could use. Nothing. And here she was, in nothing but her underwear. She took a deep breath, and readied herself.

A moment later, the door opened, its locks burnt through with a plasma torch. Two Sith troopers stepped into the room, one holding a vibroblade, and the other still holding his torch. "What the hell..." sighed the one with the torch. "All that, and there's nothing here but some empty kolto tanks?"

Then Mira pounced on him, and snapped his neck. The other trooper spun around with a yell of alarm, and slashed at the ex-Jedi, who jumped back, snatching the fallen man's plasma torch as she went. The two warriors stood facing each other for a moment- the Sith trooper holding his vibroblade with two hands, while Mira held her plasma torch low and to the side like a knife. Then they both leapt into action.

The trooper slashed at Mira's throat, and she leaned way back, letting the swing pass through empty air. He followed up with a stab, which Mira sidestepped, and countered with a quick punch to the chest. The trooper staggered back, but recovered quickly, and began his assault anew. Two slashes, and then a side kick- and Mira grabbed his foot, switched on the plasma torch, and burnt straight through his knee.

He screamed as he crumpled to the ground, and Mira quickly grabbed his sword, and finished him off by slashing his throat. Once upon a time, it would have seemed like a dishonorable and excessively brutal kill. The Mandalorian Wars had helped Mira come to the conclusion that as long as you were standing at the end, the details didn't matter. "Honor" and "mercy" were terms created by the Jedi, and those like them, so that they could feel like they were better than everyone else. It was a refuge of those who had never _really_ had to fight for their lives. Mira just did what she had to in order to survive, honor and valor be damned.

She checked the bodies quickly, making sure that they were down. Sith armor was tailored to fit rather exactly, and wasn't easy to get off either- she didn't really have time to steal their clothes, and besides, wearing clothes from off a dead body was just... gross. She was loath to go into what was looking like a combat situation in a bra and panties but... well, you do what you have to. At least she had the sense to be embarrassed about it.

She stepped into the next room quietly, her vibroblade poised to strike. Rows of beds were spaced out at even intervals along the walls... all either unoccupied, or worse, occupied by patients who were murdered while still in bed. There were a lot of bodies lying on the floor as well, scarred with laser burns or slashed by vibroblades... and standing in the middle of them, a figure in a brown cloak.

The cloaked person was facing away from her, not carrying any obvious weapon (though Mira knew better than to assume that that meant she was unarmed) and she didn't want to strike in case they were friendly... but no sense in taking chances. She stepped closer silently, and lifted her sword, ready to press it to the figure's throat so that she could ask a few questions.

"I take it the two troopers did not trouble you overmuch?" asked the figure in a sharp voice, turning slowly. Mira took a step back cautiously- it was a woman with long white hair, pale, wrinkled skin, and eyes covered by the brim of her hood. "There is no time to be lost. We must depart."

_She's on my side, then? She... sounds familiar. _"Your voice..." said Mira quietly. "I heard it as I floated in the tank, in my mind."

"Yes, I had hoped as much," answered the woman, as though that explained everything. "Now come. Our enemies draw closer with every breath, and I suspect they will find an old woman and a naked Jedi easy prey."

Mira blushed immediately at the reminder of her state of dress, and tried to cover herself with her arms to little effect. "I... whoever put me in my tank took my clothes, I think-"

"We have no time to fret over your clothing," snapped the woman. "Come, or I will leave you behind." She turned, and began to move for an open doorway, leading to a large waiting room. Mira winced, but followed, her blade at the ready.

"May I ask your name?" said Mira hesitantly. Something about the old woman gave her pause, made her phrase her question more politely than she otherwise would have- it would not do to offend the only person who could help her right now.

The woman turned her head slightly. "You may call me Kreia," she told her.

"I'm Mira- Mira Kast," explained Mira.

The woman smiled. "Yes, I know." Suddenly, the woman stopped, and Mira stopped behind her. "Ah... we have guests..." she said quietly. Her hand came out of her flowing brown sleeves, and with a practiced flick, the woman ignited a green-bladed lightsaber, holding it in one hand. Her other hand she held before her in what Mira recognized to be a Force form- a stance and positioning used to enhance the usage of Force powers.

_A Jedi,_ thought Mira. _Of all the people to come to my rescue, it had to be a blasted Jedi, didn't it?_

_

* * *

_So, Mira Kast is actually the character I played in KotOR 2, for the most part. That was the name I gave her, the appearance I gave her, and generally the attitude I had her act with. She's more light side than dark, but she's very bitter, she's quick to anger, she's passionate, and she's emotional. And man does she hate the Jedi Council for what they did to her- or what she assumes they did to her.

The storyline is going to be kind of interesting- it's a mix of the events of both games with a good dash of original plot mixed in. So we'll be going to familiar places, meeting familiar faces, and doing things that you totally don't expect. That's the game plan here.

Since I'm posting this, the Opening Crawl, and Chapter 2 all at the same time, I won't even bother to say "see you next time." We can just move on to Chapter 2.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2! Again, this is all being posted at once, so no reviews or questions have been submitted yet. So instead, you have to settle for my thoughts on KotOR 1 and 2. Or you could just skip to the chapter, if you prefer.

KotOR 1, obviously, was the better game as a whole. It was... well, _finished_, which 2 never was. Revan was a huge badass, and the reveal was a great plot twist... and there were some really awesome companions. Bastila, Carth, HK-47, Canderous Ordo- they were all fantastic. And since they all reappear in some way or another in 2, I think that was pretty universally recognized.

But I've always loved 2 more, partially because it broke my heart. If they had actually finished 2- if they had put in all the stuff they were trying to, if they had used all that unused content on the disc... it would have been one of the best RPGs of all time. The characters were _great_- Kreia was just incredibly well written, I've never seen another character in a game that was so genuinely hard to read. Atton was excellent- light hearted and clever with some truly amazing twists to him. There is one point in the game where you learn to read minds with the Force, and you're reading everyone's mind in turn... and you read Atton's, and he's playing Pazaak in his head. And it's not because he's bored- it's because he's so paranoid about people reading his mind, he just always keeps it busy with little things to distract Jedi. Yeah. That's pretty hardcore.

There's Handmaiden/Brianna, Visas Marr, Bao-Dur... so many really great characters, excellently written. There's so much to do, there are so many choices, there's so much to learn... and the plot is really epic beyond belief. You singlehandedly revive the Jedi Order? Yeah, that's pretty effing rad. Lots of Jedi Knights have their Padawans, their students. You get FIVE of them, and all within the span of a few months.

It has always been this unrealistic hope of mine that Obsidian (the people who made 2) would announce that they were going to remake KotOR 2 with all the stuff that they left out... but of course, it hasn't happened, and it never will. For all the excellent content they put into the game, so much was left out, and the holes are obvious. So where does that leave us?

Well, it leaves me writing a fanfic to try to fill that yearning of mine- for a proper, full KotOR 2 experience. To try to touch that thing that I had hoped for. So here we are.

Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Mira followed the old woman quietly, trying to learn more about her without being overt. If she was a Jedi, she was rather... brutal about it. She did not bother trying to avoid combat when the Sith troopers stood in her way, and she went for fast, efficient kills- snapping necks with the Force and running them through with her lightsaber.

On the other hand, there did not seem to be any malice in her fighting, per se- just a desire to be rid of an obstacle, more like. She didn't revel in the killing, she was just cool and professional about it. This professionalism was uncharacteristic of a Sith, who, for the most part, made their enjoyment of the fight very clear, whether it was the joy of battle, the pleasure of the kill, or the excitement of their enemy's fear that motivated them. So in the end, she determined that she was a Force user (which she already knew), and that was about all she could tell as far as her alignment.

She did appear to be of the consular nature- her lightsaber skills were certainly decent, but she did not perform any special maneuvers- no jumping, twirling, or martial arts. She just slashed and stabbed, and when that didn't do the trick, she resorted to her Force powers.

Mira, when she was a Jedi, had been a guardian herself- an expert with a lightsaber, and deeply skilled at using the Force to enhance her abilities. She could move faster, jump higher, and do so with unerring precision and strength. This old woman, however, used the Force like a weapon unto itself. She would flick her wrist casually, and a trooper would go flying into a wall. She would clench her fist, and one of the soldiers would suddenly find their throat being crushed by an almighty invisible hand. And once, when the enemies were so numerous that Mira was considering a tactical retreat, the woman raised her hand, and lightning arced from it, leaping the the soldiers and cooking them in their armor like an oven.

Mira hadn't seen such destructive displays of Force power since Dxun... the last time that she fought back to back with Revan. Revan's specialty was hard to nail down- she hadn't ever found an aspect of the Force that Revan did not excel at manipulating- but he could bring the fireworks, just like this woman. Malak had preferred that style as well, but he was not nearly as skilled or precise in his use as Revan or this woman. It was, she supposed, just a different style of fighting than she was used to. Certainly the Jedi Order tended to frown on it, but a list of the things that the Jedi Order frowned upon for stupid reasons could, if you asked Mira, fill a book- perhaps several.

It wasn't that she didn't believe that there were no Force users that didn't have an open affiliation. She'd just only ever met ones that could generally be called Dark Jedi. And as the name might suggest, they were essentially just Sith with no real organization. They were assholes- Sith, at least, pretended to care about each other. The Dark Jedi didn't bother with that- all they looked out for was themselves, and they killed without a thought as to the consequences.

Mira pulled her sword free of a trooper's body, and removed the blood from the blade with a quick flick of her wrist. That was the last of them... well, of _this_ group of them. There would be more, of course. And before they showed up, hopefully they would be able to get out of this place. "...What is this place?" asked Mira, taking advantage of the lull in the action.

"It is a hospital, the largest on Taris... or perhaps we should say 'was.' You crashed here at the same time as the Republic cruiser, and you were taken in by the staff here for treatment alongside a group of Republic soldiers. When the Sith traced the soldiers to this hospital... they began to purge it. Nearly everyone was killed- only a scat few are still alive," said the woman quietly.

Mira shook her head gently. "How did I survive? I am one of those they came for, after all..."

"The logical answer would be that the medical staff assumed you to be a Republic soldier, and wanted to put you out of the way, but since you were female, unlike the others, they had to place you in a different area altogether. Logic is often just a tool to explain away the extraordinary, however... and it is my suspicion that you were spared because fate has further use for you." The woman did not look at Mira as she spoke, but instead continued to scan the room.

Mira looked around as well. As with everywhere else in the building, there were a lot of bodies, victims of the Sith's hunt for Republic soldiers. This operation had Malak's fingerprints all over it- Revan would have been far more efficient and careful. Malak, however, was content with a zero tolerance policy on housing Republic soldiers or Jedi, and these were the results.

Over in the corner was a row of lockers... one of them unlocked and open. Mira ran over, and reached inside. Clothes! A shirt, pants, a white coat, and even shoes and socks! Jackpot. She pulled them on quickly. There had been lots of bodies that she could have gotten clothes off of along the way, but again, it is quite gross to put on something that you just took off a dead body, even _if_ you were lucky enough to find one without a bunch of blood on it. These were fresh, clean clothes, however... much better. Even if they made her look like a doctor.

"Good, you are clothed. Now let us depart." Kreia marched to a door, and it immediately opened... without the woman touching anything. _That's less than good,_ thought Mira, gripping her vibroblade.

"What have we here?" asked an amused voice, and a Sith warrior clad in silver and black armor stepped inside. "Lord Malak's instincts are good indeed- he felt you, Jedi. He sensed you. And he sent _me_ to deal with you." He twirled his hand casually, igniting a red bladed lightsaber mid-spin. "Now... you can run, little girl, or you can just stand here while I take care of the old woman. That will make my job easier, as I won't have to chase you. And if you make my job easier, I will treat you more kindly in turn."

Kreia began to laugh a long, mocking laugh. "A rare specimen of fool you are! In the first place, you do not know which of the two of us you were _actually_ sent to kill, and in the second, you are not aware of the true source of your master's information! Foolish indeed..."

The Sith narrowed his eyes, but his face betrayed uncertainty. "Are you saying I was sent here for the girl, and not for you, old woman? I recognize that cloak, and I see the lightsaber in your hands. I am no idiot."

"You _are_ an idiot, but that is not of consequence. Why and whom you were sent for does not matter." She ignited her own lightsaber, and raised the green blade. "I will handle this, girl. Go on ahead. I will catch up."

Mira hesitated... but what good could she do? She could not use the Force, and her vibroblade was not designed to match blades with a lightsaber. It took an expensive, cortosis-laced blade to parry a lightsaber, and this weapon was far too cheap for that. The blade would simply be cleaved in half by the Sith's lightsaber if she tried to block. She nodded solemnly, and then headed for another door at a run.

The old woman watched her go, and smiled to herself. "She will profit from a little time spent alone, I think... so let us take our time with this."

The Sith warrior grinned. "Apparently... you haven't noticed that I didn't come alone, old woman," he declared.

"Overconfident fool... why would you think that?" asked the woman softly, and then she snapped up a hand, and clenched it in a fist. Out a thin air, a man garbed in all black appeared, struggling as an invisible pressure lifted him off the ground, squeezing his throat. The Sith warrior suddenly looked worried, and took a step back. The woman snapped the assassin's throat, and casually tossed him aside.

Then she turned to the Sith. "I hope you have more tricks than that, boy... I would be quite disappointed if that was all you had."

The Sith clenched his teeth. _This is not going well..._ "T-there will be more!" he shouted angrily. "It is not just me, it is not just him! There are a _dozen_ of us."

"Only a dozen?" asked the woman, stepping forward. "That isn't even enough to get warmed up."

* * *

Mira dashed down a flight of stairs, and then paused at the bottom. She had an odd feeling, one she couldn't quite place. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensation. It was like... a whisper, a voice on the wind. It felt familiar in a way... but it also worried her. She began to fight it, trying to push it out of her mind.

::Do not run from it,:: declared the woman's voice in her head. ::It is the Force that you feel. It has not been so long that you have forgotten, has it...? Embrace it. It will give you strength.::

_Kreia? How are you doing this?_ Mira wondered.

::You can worry about that later. Focus. Reach out with your senses, into the room beyond.::

_Reach out with my senses..._ thought Mira. It was a thing she hadn't tried in years. She focused, her eyes shut tight. She felt the room around her through the Force- felt the electricity running through the walls, felt the strength of the walls. She pushed gently, and slowly felt through the door, and into the room beyond.

What she felt there almost made her lose her focus in surprise. _Six... seven... ten people. They're so quiet... making no sound, not even the beating of their hearts escapes their clothing. But I can feel the blood in their veins... can feel the life flowing through them, warm and rich._

::They are Sith assassins that you feel. Their outfits allow them to cloak themselves, and even cover the sound of their heartbeats, as you've noticed. But they cannot hide the life that flows through them, and if you focus, you can keep track of them as you fight by that alone. Now... follow the flow to their hands. Can you feel it?:: She could. ::Sense the oscillations of energy coming from between them. Feel the shape of their source.::

_...A staff-like weapon, held in the middle, with energy running all throughout it... a force pike?_ thought Mira.

::Yes... a force pike. Feel its length, commit it to memory... and stop focusing. Stop _needing_ to focus. Just keep your eyes closed and _see_ them, blood and bone. Sense their movements, sense their weapons, sense their intentions. ...You are ready. Go.::

Mira took a deep breath, and then opened the door, stepping into the next room with her vibroblade clenched tightly. It had been so long since she had used the Force... to a certain degree, she had even _shunned_ it. And now she had to rely on it entirely to sense her enemies. Someone up there had a sense of irony. She closed her eyes tightly, and focused on the invisible foes now moving carefully toward her.

She swung her vibroblade in a quick, precise slash, felt the blade bite into her target, and heard the assassin shout in pain and surprise. _A little shallow, but a hit._ She turned quickly, parrying an attack from behind, and lashed out with her foot, kicking another in the ribs. _I can do this. I can really do this! It's back, I can feel it again!_ She laughed, and then leapt into action, striking, dodging, spinning, and leaping- a dance of death, cutting down the invisible foes with skill and grace.

Mira had learned to fight quite well without the Force, of course- she was skilled with blades and martial arts, and she didn't bother with inefficient motion, she just cut down her foes with proficiency and tenacity. With the Force, however, it was something else entirely. It was like... like she could see it all. She could see the enemies sneaking up behind her, she could see where their attacks were going to land, she could see where she needed to be, how the current attack would link into the next. It just all felt so _natural_, like breathing.

She slashed down the last assassin, and let out a long breath, opening her eyes slowly. The bodies of the assassins were all over the floor, and she flicked the blood off of her sword. They hadn't been bad, but taking on a Jedi at melee was just foolishness. _Though I suppose that's not quite right, is it? I'm not a Jedi just because I can feel the Force again. I'm... something in between. Like Kreia._

Mira reached out to the old woman with her mind. _Kreia? Can you hear me?_ She wasn't sure if it would work- certainly, she hadn't been able to do send thoughts when she was a Jedi Knight. With Kreia, however, it felt... different. Like it would be easy to connect to her, or even as though she already _was_ connected.

::I can hear you, Mira. I have finished up here- I will be along shortly,:: answered Kreia. Mira strode into the waiting room, and sighed. _Almost out of here, finally._ Then she froze.

Standing outside were some dozen Sith troopers with blaster rifles leveled at the entrance. Apparently, they'd figured out that going inside was a death sentence... and were just making sure that no one could safely come out. _Kreia, there are a lot of troopers at the front entrance- I don't think it's safe to use._

::We have no choice. I am at the back entrance now- they have wired it up with large quantities of mines and other proximity explosives. We cannot pass through that.::

"Dammit," muttered Mira. She took a deep breath, and began to walk slowly toward the entrance. _Twelve of them that I can see... and perhaps even more waiting in the wings. This is going to be rough..._ she thought.

"Stand at attention, soldier!" snapped a commanding voice from behind. The words went straight to her limbs without bothering to check with her brain, and before she knew what was happening she had pulled a picture-perfect about face, clicked her heels together, and snapped a crisp salute that would have made a drill sergeant weep with pride. If she'd had a moment to think, she would have wondered what the hell she was doing, but thought played no part in this- it was sheer instinct, bored deep into her mind with military discipline.

A man with reddish-brown hair and a goatee nodded at her slightly, showing approval at her form. He lowered a pair of blaster pistols. "Now, soldier, what the hell were you planning on doing just there?" demanded the man.

Mira was astonished. Even in the military, she hadn't often been treated like a grunt- she had been a skilled Jedi with tactical aptitude, and had been an officer from the start, quickly rising to the rank of general. She hadn't ever really experienced this sort of thing before, and while some part of her mind knew that this was a mistake, that she didn't have to obey anything this man said, something about his tone and manner had her obeying automatically. "I was planning to charge them, sir!" she answered quickly.

"You were going to charge them," repeated the man, narrowing his eyes. "What are you wielding there, soldier?"

"Vibroblade, sir!" answered Mira, dreading where this line of questioning was going.

"A vibroblade. Tell me, soldier, have you seen what happens to someone who charges a group of well armed, alert troops with a melee weapon?" asked the officer quietly.

"I-" began Mira, who _had_ seen it quite a few times.

"They get _vaporized_, soldier!" he yelled. "Now I tell you what we're going to do. We're going to head back, we're going to find another way out, and do you know what we're not going to do?"

"We're not going to make any suicidal charges, sir?" guessed Mira, trying her best to keep it from sounding sarcastic.

"You catch on quick, soldier! Now follow me!" he ordered

Finally, Mira's mind began to catch up with her mouth. "Sir, permission to speak freely?" began Mira nervously.

The man wheeled about, looking pissed. "Oh, this should be good. _What_, soldier?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.

"Not a soldier, sir!"

The man paused, blinking as he considered this. "What did you say?" he asked carefully.

"Not a soldier, sir- civilian! Don't know who the hell you are, sir!"

The man exhaled, and seemed to relax a little. "...I'm sorry about that. I just assumed that anyone who'd survived the Sith this long had to be a soldier. Already saw a couple of others get themselves killed being stupid... didn't want to see you do the same."

"I used to be a soldier, just retired after the Mandalorian Wars," said Mira quietly. "Mira Kast." She offered her hand.

"Lieutenant Carth Onasi," replied the man, shaking her hand. He tilted his head slightly. "I feel like I recognize your name from somewhere..."

"I don't think we've met," shrugged Mira. "Anyway, the other exits are trapped- wired with a lot of explosives. Kreia should be along in a moment, she's a..." She paused. _I was going to say "friend," but I'm not sure that's the truth of the matter. What exactly _is_ the right word for what Kreia is? Why exactly is she helping me... and how much longer will she be helping me for?_

"An ally," interjected Kreia's cool voice. "I see you have made a new acquintance."

"Carth Onasi," said Carth, holding out a hand. Kreia stared at it coldly until the man pulled it back. "...If the back isn't viable, how are we going to get out?" asked Carth, eyeing Kreia cautiously.

"Mira and I will deal with the Sith while you provide blaster support, unless you think that beyond your capabilities," declared Kreia, looking amused.

"Beyond my- listen lady, I'm a soldier of the Republic! I can handle myself! I was worried about _you_!" he snapped.

Her smile did not fade- if anything, it grew. "The noble warrior, looking out for us poor, defenseless Jedi. How touching," she sneered.

"Jedi?" repeated Carth, faltering. "You two are-" he began, and then froze. "That's how I recognized your name," he said quietly, looking at Mira. "You were... in command at Malachor."

Mira looked away. Malachor was the last thing she wanted to talk about. "Let's just get out of here," she said. "This isn't going to get any easier."

Carth nodded, and Kreia ignited her lightsaber. _Right. Let's do this._ Mira twirled her vibroblade, and ran forward, bursting through the doors of the hospital.

"Open fir- _it's a Jedi!_" yelled a Sith officer in alarm. In an instant, the Sith troopers' preparedness and calm went straight out the window. They began to fire wildly, their shots flying all over the place. Kreia flicked a few bolts aside with her lightsaber as they approached with practiced ease.

Mira flinched as a shot flew toward her. It was the adrenaline, she knew, that she even saw it coming... she couldn't possibly dodge, and her vibroblade couldn't deflect it. Instinctively, she threw up a hand, as though to block the blast with her hand, which wouldn't work, of course. Laser blasts aren't so feeble that a hand could stop them. It would burn right through, and then hit her in the chest.

Only it didn't. As it hit her hand, Mira felt the Force rush through her, and the bolt _bounced off_, flying back at the shooter. The soldier only had time to half-shout in surprise before the laser burnt a hole in his head, and he fell to the ground. _How did I _do_ that?_ marveled Mira. She channeled the force into her legs, and leapt the last dozen yards, bringing her vibroblade down on a trooper with a vicious jumping slash. The blade cleaved through his armor and chest, and he fell.

She spun immediately on landing, blocking an attack from behind. It was the Sith officer- and he was actually a pretty competent swordsmen. Their blades met in a rapid series of clashes, neither one able to gain an edge. They locked swords, and pressed their weight into it, each trying to overpower the other.

"Nice lab coat..." grunted the doctor. "What's a doctor doing with this kind of sword talent... not to mention that trick with the laser reflecting?"

"Oh, you know," grinned Mira, "patients can get a little rough." Then she shoved him back, and slashed at his legs. He blocked, just barely, but couldn't get his sword up in time to block the followup thrust.

"A taste of my own medicine...?" wheezed the officer, staring at the sword that had piercing his chest. He laughed weakly, coughing blood. "What a... terrible pun..." he gasped, and then collapsed on the ground.

Mira pulled her sword free, and spun to meet her next opponent... but there were none. Kreia had done a number with lightning and lightsaber that had dealt with five of them, and Carth had just thrown a grenade, judging by the small crater in the ground. "I guess that's that, then," she commented, and put away her sword.

Carth frowned. "What are you going to do next?" he asked.

Mira frowned as well. "Well, hide out for a bit, and then get a ride off this rock, I suppose. I'm... not sure," she admitted, glancing at Kreia. "What do you think, Kreia?"

Kreia gazed at the bodies for a moment. "Leaving the planet is not a possibility. The Sith have Taris under quarantine, thanks to the Republic raid. For the moment... I suggest we find a safe place to regroup and reassess. That we are here is not mere chance- we are meant to be here. There is something for us to accomplish on this planet."

Carth hesitated before speaking. "The Republic came here trying to free a Jedi who is being held here on the surface- named Bastila. I know it's not your fight, but... well, I think I'm the only survivor from the cruiser, and I can't do it alone. Your help would be invaluable."

"First, let's just get out of here," declared Mira firmly. "There's lots for us to talk about, but the Sith will be along shortly. There's no time to waste."

The odd trio slipped into a back alley, and headed downtown. After an hour, they managed to find an apartment with an unattentive landlord and an easy-to-crack lock. Carth immediately started working on taking an inventory of their weapons and equipment, disassembling and cleaning both his pistols and Mira's vibroblade. He tried to do so with Kreia's lightsaber as well, but her quiet anger at the mere suggestion made him back off quickly.

Kreia sat down to meditate, trying to make sense of all that had happened, and sense what was to come. There were many factors- the Sith, this Republic soldier, the captured Jedi... and the broken Jedi that she traveled with. There was much to see, much to discover.

And as for Mira? She dropped onto a bed, and immediately passed out. Preparedness was all well and good, but she was just so damn _tired_. And things were going to get worse before they would get better.

* * *

Alright folks, I've chatted enough for now. I would love to read your reviews, comments, and questions on the story- I feel like I'm pretty good at responding to them, and I _will_ add stuff to the story as per your review if I think you have a good idea. Just check out my other fics if you don't believe me =P So send me feedback, and I'll see you next time!


	4. Chapter 3

Welcome to Chapter 3 which is technically chapter 4! I wish it would give me an option to make the Crawl "Chapter 0" or something. Having the numbers be off like this is going to drive me insane.

Let's skip straight to the reviews, shall we? Cultosaurus mentions one of the key problems of having a main character like Mira- that she is one of a thousand possible characters. Even stripping away the main plot, there were lots of personality and morality decisions in KotOR II, and obviously I can only represent one set of them with my main character. I'm not a guy who's amazing at writing from other people's perspectives for long periods of time- I have to see some part of myself in the character, or I just struggle, really. So to me, it was important to do two things with this character. First, to make her neither solid white nor solid black. The world doesn't work that way. It's never that clear cut, and frankly, it always seemed a slightly absurd part of the Star Wars universe that there wasn't ever any (to my knowledge) inbetween for the Sith and Jedi. People don't _act_ like that. You don't get put in situations that are like "rescue a box of kittens or burn down an orphanage." The extreme polarity of the games irritated me vastly.

The other important thing was to make her... stubborn, I guess. To me, it seems like the canon Exile- the one who was totally light side and apologized for the Mandalorian Wars and all that- was lying to herself. Sure, she did some bad things in the Mandalorian Wars. But the basic decision to go out and stop genocide? There is _no_ universe in which that was the wrong call. Maybe they went about it the wrong way, but standing up against the Mandalorians was the right thing to do. Period. And for the Exile to apologize for that... well, she had to just be saying what the Council wanted to hear, frankly. They were arrogant jackasses anyway. I could never understand that call. I didn't see why she couldn't be like, "Maybe I did some bad things but the fundemental decision was right." So I needed to have my Exile be like that, or the core of what she was just wouldn't click with me. I guess there's a reason I'm not out saving the galaxy, huh?

Both Cultosaurus and passisginger asked about Malak and Revan's relationship in this reality. Well, like Mira, I rather had to make my own Revan here... but Malak has been rather humbled from his previous self. It's not that he has no ambition, exactly. It's more that he's been so thoroughly bested and intimidated by a smarter, more villainous Revan that he doesn't dare try anything. As you'll learn in this chapter... the difference in this universe isn't that Malak didn't try to seize the throne. It's that Revan _saw that coming._

Frankly, I didn't like Malak as a villain. He wasn't terrible... but he was just too _stupid_. Blowing up an entire planet to try to kill one Jedi- and _failing. _That's pretty sad. His apprentice was a joke, and he himself was just a heavy-handed thug. Thankfully, though he is around here, he is one of _many_ Sith Lords- Revan is here, Nihilus and Sion are around somewhere, Traya is a possibility of course, and there might even be _another_ Sith Lord about to rise to power...

Enjoy the chapter, folks. Hope to have more for ya soon, I'm really startin' ta enjoy this story.

* * *

"I don't understand," declared Carth, shaking his head. "You're Jedi, and there's another Jedi in trouble. Why are you so unwilling to help her?" They were sitting at a small table in the apartment they'd managed to commandeer, while the Exile, Mira, slept soundly in a bed across the room. Carth had run out of weapons to clean and maintain, so he had taken to arguing with Kreia. It said a lot for how little he had learned about the old woman that he would _willingly_ start an argument with her.

"Oh, is that how it is?" asked Kreia, amused. "Normal people are content to walk right past other people in trouble, but since we can feel the Force, suddenly we must be suicidally outgoing. We are not of the Jedi Order, in case I hadn't made that clear. We have no obligation to attack a Sith base, and we are not so foolish as to think that we would succeed in doing so, either. And before you announce any idiotic notions of going 'with or without us,' I shall make it clear- you are not going _anywhere_. You are staying right here."

"Oh really? And how is it that you so much about what I'm going to do?" demanded the pilot angrily.

The old woman gave him a smug smile. "I should think even one of your mental facilities could figure it out, Carth. I have seen your mind. I have seen what drives you. And I know that the vengeance you seek lies at the end of the road that we follow. Alone, you will never achieve it."

There was a moment's silence, and then Carth said, quietly, "You're bluffing."

"Oh, am I? Because it's not as though the ability to read and affect thoughts is a well-known Jedi attribute, is it? I suppose all these memories about the beautiful days on Telos are just made up, then. About the two that you left behind there." Carth looked away, his expression dark, and Kreia smiled. "So I think, for the moment, you will be staying with us."

"...It looks like I will," admitted the soldier unhappily.

"There is no need to be so bitter about it, Carth. True, you may not much like me-" began Kreia.

_Understatement of the century,_ thought Carth.

"-But you will find Mira an agreeable enough companion, I suspect... and there will be other opportunities as well. It will be an eventful journey, I suspect. And perhaps we _will_ end up rescuing this Jedi you are so taken with, if she is our only way off this planet."

"'Taken with?' It is my _job_ to get her out, it isn't some personal infatuation or-" began Carth hotly, and then glanced up to see Mira standing there with an eyebrow quirked.

"...Not that it's a big deal, but if you could lower your voice a little, that would be appreciated," said Mira, rubbing her hair.

Carth blinked. "I, uh... you were very quiet, I didn't realize you were awake."

Mira shrugged. "Loud movement rarely pays off." She sat down at the table as well, and yawned. "What's the plan?"

"That rather depends on what we want to achieve," noted Kreia calmly, a smile playing across her face. "Are we to leave the planet as swiftly as possible, or did you want to achieve something here?"

The Exile frowned. "I think we need to clear some things up before we make any calls like that. I very much appreciate the assistance you two have given me... but I find myself a little puzzled as to why you still are. I mean, we all needed to get out of that hospital alive, but now that we're out, what is it that you want to achieve?"

Carth shook his head. "I... I don't know anymore. I want to rescue Bastila. That's my mission. But... I don't really think that's something we could pull off ourselves. Heh, we'd have trouble rescuing her from street gangs at this point, let alone Taris's main Sith base. Until I figure things out... well, I'm going to need to get off Taris too, and no one else will help a Republic soldier, so I'm with you."

Mira nodded, and her gaze slid toward Kreia. The old woman stared back at her for a few moments before she finally spoke. "We share common enemies... fearsome foes indeed. You do not have the strength to fight off those that pursue you alone, and neither do I. Apart, we will fall. Together, we stand a chance, however slim."

The Exile paused, considering this. "Malak is after you, Kreia?"

Kreia gave her a disappointed look. "We have far more dangerous enemies than _Malak_, Mira. Revan's attack dog is tenacious, but lacks in any real intelligence. Alas, he is but one of many. You are the last of the Jedi in a time of great Sith power, and as much as they loathe each other, the Sith Lords will unite against you." She shook her head. "No... Malak is the first foe we must overcome, but it does not end with him. Defeat him, and you will only convince the others all the more that we must be dealt with."

The young woman sighed, and stood, turning away. _Once again, she uses the word "Jedi"... even though I am exiled, and she... I'm not certain if she ever _was_ a Jedi. And she speaks of beating Darth Malak as though it were... a mere matter of time. I served alongside Malak... it's true, he's not a strategic genius, but he's not a moron, and he is a very powerful Force user. Not to mention the fact that he serves Revan- that man's support lends much power._ "...So we have to fight Malak, then?" asked Mira quietly.

"Indeed. If you run, he will chase."

"In that case," declared Mira, raising her chin confidently, "I'd rather do it with another warrior on my side... even if they are a Jedi. Let us work on securing a route off this planet... but we should examine the feasibility of rescuing Bastila as well. I am sure she harbors no love for the Sith."

"If, indeed, they have not already turned her," noted Kreia coldly, and Carth's face went white. "Our course is set. I shall go for a walk." Then she stepped outside.

Mira sighed. "...Do you think she disapproves?" she asked sarcastically, sinking into a chair.

"Well, she has a point," admitted Carth. "Having been held for this long by the Sith... few young Jedi could hold out. She could have been turned."

"No," said Mira, shaking her head. "No, if they'd turned her, everyone would know. They would be shouting from the rooftops that the Republic's last hope had fallen to the Dark Side. That they have said nothing means she has not fallen, I am sure of it."

"It's possible. But that's not even the real problem. How... how can you so easily accept that you're going to have to fight Malak? I mean, I've been fighting him for years, but this isn't your fight! You're a civilian." He shook his head. "I don't understand it."

Mira closed her eyes. "It's not that simple, though. I may be a civilian now... but I was once a Jedi, and I was once a soldier. I turned my back on the military, and the Jedi turned their back on me, but that doesn't make me... free of any obligation. Letting the Sith run rampant was just... irresponsible, I suppose. I should have done _something_."

"No," said Carth quietly. "This wasn't your responsibility, Mira. Without your command, we probably wouldn't have even won the Mandalorian Wars. Revan was incredible, but he was just one man. Dxun, Althir, Malachor... those battles couldn't have been won without your leadership. You've won one war. You've done your part."

"That's what I've been telling myself ever since the War," sighed Mira. "But now with the Jedi Order all but dead, and the Republic not just on the verge of collapse, but actually _collapsed_, it's a little hard to stay convinced of that. The galaxy needs people to step up. I'm not so naive as to think that I can save the Republic, but I can't just sit back and watch, either."

"But... _Darth Malak_," insisted Carth.

Mira paused, and then began to laugh. "I'm sorry," she managed as Carth stared at her in disbelief. "It's just every now and then I remember his real name and I just can't keep a straight face!"

"His... real name?" said Carth, disarmed.

"What, you don't think he was born 'Darth Malak,' do you? Even 'Malak' is an adopted name. He took it up when he joined the war effort. He was born as Alek Squinquargesimus."

There was a long pause. "You're kidding." Carth looked a little stunned. "Squin... quarge... simus?" he repeated.

"We all just called him 'Squint' back at the Academy," added Mira, trying to keep a straight face.

There was a pause, and then both of them burst out laughing. Kreia came back in from her walk, and gave the two a bemused look, and then shook her head, and went to meditate in the corner. After a moment, Carth and Mira calmed down, their laughter trailing off. "...We're not going to have occasion to laugh like that again for quite some time, I suspect," commented Carth soberly.

"Yeah," agreed Mira, looking away. "It's going to be pretty rough.

* * *

Kel Merian couldn't help but grin as he saw the door. This particular apartment complex was home to alien immigrants, mostly displaced by wars, and many of them were illegal- no registry, no paperwork. As a Sith Officer, it was his job to pursue and capture these illegal aliens- no pun intended, ha. Since this building was known to house so many, Sith patrols had been raiding it on a regular basis. The last time was several days ago, and it had been necessary to break down the door- one of the tenants, or perhaps a landlord, had seen them coming, and hoped that locking the doors would discourage them. That had gone pretty badly, predictably, and they had only just managed to get the door in working order again. Wires were sticking out here and there, it was sparking randomly, and the metal was charred and bent in places. Kel glanced at one of his four trooper escorts, his grin still wide. "Blow it down," he ordered.

"Sir, I don't think it's locked-" began the trooper, and Kel's grin instantly vanished. "Yes sir, right away sir!" amended the trooper hastily. He stepped forward, strapped an explosive charge to the door, and then stepped back, and detonated it.

Kel strode in through the smoke and debris, raised his plaster pistol, and fired a shot into the ceiling. "This is an official Sith raid, authorized by my lord Darth Malak! Everyone against the wall, and maybe no one will have to die!" His troops entered after him, their rifles raised to handle any would-be heroes. The tenants out in the hallways sighed, and with the practiced familiarity of having done so every couple of days, pressed their foreheads against the wall with their hands on their heads.

The two Duros landlords strode forward to meet the Sith, but Kel aimed his pistol. "That's close enough, scum. You are the owners of this... cesspool?" he demanded.

"We were searched two days ago!" snapped one of the Duros angrily. "Why can't you people just leave us alone? We've done nothing to you!"

Kel narrowed his eyes, and fired, blasting the alien in the chest. The stunned landlord blinked, and then fell to the ground. "That's how we Sith deal with mouthy aliens!" snapped the officer. "Now stay against the wall unless you want to suffer the same fa-"

He froze. An apartment door was opened, and two humans had just stepped out of it. One of them was a young man with brown hair- well-built and with a confident stance. A Republic soldier, no doubt. And the second was a white-haired woman in a long brown robe... A Jedi! he realized. "Well now, it looks like this is my lucky day!" he announced happily. "Men, keep your weapons trained on those two- it looks like the aliens have been housing a Republic soldier and a Jedi. I'll get promoted for this, for certain..."

The brown-haired man raised his hands submissively. "We're unarmed," he announced with calm confidence.

Kel grinned as he walked slowly toward them. "Good, then. That means we won't have to shoot you just yet, I suspect. Lord Malak is bound to have some questions for you two... survivors from that Republic warship we shot down the other day, I imagine." There were some muffled thumping sounds behind him, but it sounded like one of his troops roughing up an alien. That was all well and good. He paid it no further attention.

Carth shrugged. "I am, but she isn't," he answered, nodding at Kreia.

Kel raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what are you supposed to be, old woman?" he jeered.

A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth. "A distraction," she answered simply.

The Sith Officer stared for a moment, processing, and then quickly spun about, but was not quite fast enough. Mira pressed her vibroblade against his throat, and drove him against the wall with her free hand. His troops were lying on the ground, dead- killed quickly and quietly while he talked with the other two. Too late, he realized that if the apartment door had already been open, that this girl must have left already, and then the other two stepped out to draw his attention. "You have answers. I have questions. If at any point I do not like said answers, you die. We clear?" demanded Mira, staring him right in the eye.

"Yes. Yes!" barked Kel, already beginning to sweat. Oh god, I cannot die now. Not now, not here.

"Good," said Mira, inclining her head in the slightest of nods. "Question one- the blockade in the skies over Taris. What is required to get past the blockade?"

"Code," blurted the officer. "Security code, sixteen digits, letters and numbers. Changes daily. Transmit it when requested and you can pass, no questions asked."

"Interesting. And who has this code?" asked Mira, knowing full well that this idiot of an officer wouldn't have it himself.

"I-I don't know! Generals, fleet commanders! Sometimes they give it to transports and things, but only the current day's one!" Mira's blade pressed slightly closer, and Kel fought to maintain bladder control. "M-m-maybe some of the technicians in our Upper City headquarters!" he guessed quickly.

"That's where they're holding Bastila," noted Carth. "That was part of our briefing for this mission."

"Question two, then- how do we get in?" asked Mira.

Kel's mind raced. "I... I don't know! Get some uniforms, or... I don't know!" he barked.

The Exile sighed, and then calmly slashed his throat, and let him fall to the floor. "Can you handle the bodies?" she asked the surviving landlord.

"Y-yes! We'll take care of them before any more show up! ...Thank you?" he said uncertainly.

"I'm no friend of the Sith, don't mention it. Come on, let's get out of here," Mira told the other two.

_Not a member of the Jedi Order... yeah, no kidding,_ thought Carth. _Even _I_ winced at that one. Jedi don't deal with situations like that. They don't... kill for convenience._ He shook his head. He could worry about that later. "Mira, I was thinking about that, and I think it would be wiser for us to split up. I can try to track down some other Republic soldiers or sympathizers, and Kreia should probably stay here- they'll be looking for Jedi, and she... looks very Jedi."

Mira frowned a little. "That... makes sense," she agreed hesitantly. "Kreia, are you okay with that?"

"I can do as much here as elsewhere," answered the old woman. "There is much to consider. I will remain here."

The exile nodded. "Okay. Carth, do what you can. I'll see what kind of non-Republic support I can find... mostly just keeping my nose to the ground, I expect," she shrugged. "Let's go."

* * *

"Enter," declared a calm voice, and Darth Malak took a deep breath, and then entered the office (or one of the _many_ offices) of the Sith Lord Revan. "Malak... so glad you could make it on such short notice."

Malak narrowed his eyes. "To be called away from Taris so suddenly, I expect that this is something fairly major, my lord," he hazarded, treading lightly despite his dislike for the man's tone.

Revan stared at him from behind his distinctive Mandalorian war mask. "You are hunting Republic soldiers on Taris- ones that came to free Bastila. I wanted to warn you that the problem is greater than it appears."

"They killed several apprentices, Revan, I'm hardly taking the problem lightly," scowled Malak. "They are dangerous, this much is obvious. Perhaps that... Onasi fellow is with them. Kath, or something like that."

"Carth Onasi, while a formidable pilot and soldier, is not the problem," said Revan smoothly. "I am certain he did not die in the cruiser's destruction- he is too tenacious a man for that- but you have greater forces aligned against you." He paused for a moment, and then sighed. "It would seem an old friend is on Taris."

Malak blinked uncomprehendingly. "Old friend, my lord?" he ventured. Few _actual_ friends of his from before the war had chosen to side with the Republic, so it was likely that Revan meant this comment sarcastically, but in that event it could be any _number_ of individuals from the old Jedi Order-

"I am referring to the former General Kast, Malak," explained Revan patiently. Malak gave him another blank look, and the Sith Lord sighed again. "From the war? Malachor?"

To his credit, Malak did not pale (though it would be hard to tell with a face like his), but he did lock up for a moment at the thought of this. "_Her_?" he managed. "I thought the Council had... _dealt_ with her."

"You were wrong. She is on Taris. And she is not... forgiving," Revan noted. "She has tasted the Dark Side before, Malak. Be wary of her."

"Why should that be so dangerous?" the lesser Sith asked in his echo-y mechanical voice. "That will only make her easier to turn. It is easier to turn grey to black than it is to turn white."

Revan shook his head. "Foolishness, Malak. Those who have never tasted of the Dark Side are easy to turn because they underestimate its power. They think themselves invincible, and do not even realize what is happening. But those who have tasted the power- tasted it and _rejected_ it- it is them that you should fear. For they know what they are up against, what it looks like, and how to avoid it. 'One cannot appreciate the true brilliance of light unless one has dwelled in shadow.'"

It sounded like a Jedi saying, but the message was not one the Jedi ever would encourage- the Jedi Order was all for living in the light in complete ignorance of shadow, sadly. Malak was curious, but to ask its source would be to admit ignorance, and in front of the Dark Lord of the Sith that was never wise, so he simply ignored the quote. "Very well, my lord. Is there anything else?" he asked obligatorily. He was already preparing himself mentallyf or the ride back- there never _was_ anything else.

"As a matter of fact, there is another matter," noted Revan calmly. Malak paused uncertainly. "My apprentice has recently finished his training, and is ready for a little... action," he declared, motioning at a robed figure that Malak had not noticed before in the corner of the room. "He will help you deal with this problem on Taris. His aid will be most valuable, but do not forget- he does not answer to you. He answers to _me_, and me alone."

"My lord!' exclaimed Malak, surprised. "But I am your apprentice- your student!"

Revan shook his head gently. "You have been your own for a long time now, Malak. I stopped teaching you shortly after you stopped learning. It is my hope that _this_ one will be able to handle a little more before I finish with him- perhaps I will even teach him enough to be satisfied. We will see."

"But my lord, if he is to come to Taris, he will need to follow my orders so that-" began Malak.

Revan cut him off with a stare. "...Twice you have defied me in our time as the lords of the Sith, Malak," he noted. "The first time, I cut off your jaw that dared question my leadership. The second time, I cut off your hand that dared designate _my ship_ a target. I would hate for their to be a third incident- I am beginning to suspect that the problem is your _mind_, and removing that will cause you other problems," he noted drily. "Are we clear?"

Malak's prosthetic hand twitched at the words. The first incident, as Revan said, had been during their training to become Sith Lords, when Malak had called Revan soft, and said that he deserved to be the master, not Revan. There had been a brief lightsaber fight, and then Revan had sliced off his jaw. He'd gotten it covered with a vocalizer, so he could still speak (though with a mechanical reverberation to his voice) , but every time he made the effort to eat, he remembered Revan... and what he did to him.

The second time was when he tried to seize the throne through more indirect means. It was the middle of a battle, and Revan's ship had been boarded by a Jedi strike team. Revan was dealing with them, but he was occupied, and Malak had tried to take advantage of the opportunity, and ordered Revan's ship destroyed. Revan, however, had anticipated his betrayal, and the crew of Malak's ship turned on him, and restrained him. When Revan was done with the Jedi, he came for Malak... and the now crippled Sith considered it a mercy that the man had let him go with a mere lost hand. Revan displayed patience that Malak never had... but it was more clear than ever that his patience was not infinite, and he was beginning to lose faith in Malak.

He had to capture Mira Kast, their old ally from the war. He had to do it quickly, and without significant loses. And if he did, maybe, just _maybe_, Revan would decide that he was worth keeping around. "It will be done, my lord," declared Malak, bowing, and then he fled from the room. Revan's apprentice followed behind him quietly, watching the jawless Sith as he stormed down the hall toward his shuttle. "Can you fly a shuttle, apprentice?" demanded Malak.

The apprentice pulled back his hood. "Pure Pazaak," grinned Atton Rand with a nod.

* * *

Mira glanced up as another man sat next to her at the bar. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked calmly.

The line was usually used as a pickup line, but the exile sensed that there was more to this question than some horny guy. She fixed the man with a more steady gaze. He was human, with greying hair and a small network of scars on his face. His eyes were a sharp steel grey, and his accent was strangely familiar... she couldn't quite place it, however. He met her gaze unblinkingly, and after a moment, she nodded slightly, and said, "Sure."

The man grinned. "I'm glad to see that you gave the question the proper consideration. I am, as you have likely inferred, _not_ here for personal reasons. I come with a business proposal."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that so...? Not to give up the advantage, but I'm a little surprised anyone even knows who I am yet."

"Oh, no one does," answered the man easily. "The only thing anyone knows about you is from some interesting security footage where you killed maybe a dozen Sith assassins. With your eyes closed, no less. That's the kind of thing that gets people's attention real fast."

"You're a pretty decent tracker to catch up with me just based on that," observed Mira.

"Coming from a fellow warrior, I take that compliment with pride," he nodded. "Canderous Ordo. Good to meet you."

_Ah. I knew I recognized that accent._ "Clan Ordo... it is an honor," Mira told the Mandalorian with a slight bow.

Canderous gave her a surprised look. "There aren't many who remember the Mandalorian clans- even among us Mandalorians." He looked her up and down curiously. "I admit to a little curiosity as to why a warrior would go into battle in a lab coat, however."

"_Verd ori'shya beskar'gam_," smiled Mira. It was a Mandalorian saying- "a warrior is more than his armor."

The man stared at her once again, and then began to laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen one for whom that saying was more true!" he declaring, shaking his head. "It's not an easy thing to take me off guard, and you've done so twice already. What's your name, warrior?"

"Mira Kast," said Mira with a respectful nod. Her instincts- maybe the Force? She couldn't really tell- were telling her that the man was alright. "What can I do for you?"

Canderous grinned. "It seems to me a warrior of your caliber might want to get off this rock. And I have some ideas as to how exactly that could happen."

Mira straightened up a little. "Perhaps I should be buying _you_ a drink, then," she smiled. "Please, go on."

* * *

And that's chapter three! Two familiar (to those who've played the games) faces make their appearance, both characters I liked very much. You'll start to see more stuff from the Sith perspective as well- this _is_ a third person story, so I might as well make the most of that!

Review, comment, question, and I'll see you folks next time!


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